False Colours

‘I brought it up with me, and a couple of glasses,’ said Evelyn, nodding towards a chest against the wall. ‘All right and tight with you, old fellow?’

‘Yes, except for this damned hobble we’re in,’ Kit replied, pouring out two generous measures of Fine Old Cognac. He handed one of the glasses to Evelyn, and sat down on the day-bed confronting the chair in which Evelyn had disposed himself. ‘Where have you sprung from?’ he asked. ‘And how the devil did you get into the house?’

‘Oh, Pinny still has her key to the nursery-wing! She gave it to me, and I walked from her cottage as soon as I thought it would be safe. I’m putting up there for the night. I was driven over, after dark. No one saw me.’

‘Driven over from where?’ demanded Kit.

Evelyn had tilted his glass, and was watching the glint of the candlelight on the brandy. ‘A place called Woodland House. You wouldn’t know it: it’s a few miles south of Crowborough. Belongs to a Mr and Mrs Askham.’

‘Crowborough?’ Kit ejaculated. ‘Do you mean to tell me you’ve been within ten miles of Ravenhurst all this time?’

Evelyn nodded, shooting him a sidelong look which held as much mischief as guilt. ‘Yes, but I told you – I had concussion!’

‘I heard you!’ said Kit grimly. ‘You came round this morning, jumped out of bed, and posted home, as bobbish as ever! Since when have you run sly with me, Eve?’

‘No, no, I’m not running sly! It’s just that it’s a long story, and – and I was wondering where to begin!’

‘Well, begin by telling me what took you to Crowborough of all unlikely places!’

‘Oh, I didn’t go to Crowborough! I went to Networth. You know, Kester! – a village not far from Nutley, where John-Coachman went to live with his married daughter, when my father pensioned him. Goodleigh told me, when I was here, that he’s grown pretty feeble, and keeps asking after us both. So I drove over to see the poor old chap. Lord, Kester, do you remember how he was used to have one of the carriages pulled out into the yard, and sit us up on the box-seat, and teach us how to handle the whip?’

‘Of course I do! But you didn’t get rid of Challow because you were going to see old John!’

‘Oh, no! That was by the way – or not so very much out of it! I was bound for Tunbridge Wells, and thought I might just as easily take the pike-road from Uckfield as –’

‘Clara!’ uttered Kit.

‘Yes, that’s right, but how in thunder did you know? If that meddling busybody, Challow, has been nosing out what’s no concern of his, I’ll be damned if I’ll keep him any longer! The way he and Fimber cluck after me, like a couple of hens with one chick, is enough to drive me out of my mind!’

‘Yes, I know, but I didn’t learn about Clara from him. He knew you’d got a ladybird in Tunbridge Wells, but not who she was, or where she lived. Just as well! He’d have been in a rare taking, if he’d known she was in bed with a broken heart, all on your account!’

Evelyn gave a shout of laughter. ‘Clara? I wish I might see it! She wouldn’t shed a tear for me, or anyone else!’

‘On the contrary! She hasn’t ceased to shed tears since the news of your perfidy burst upon her. She fell into hysterics first – fit after fit of ’em!’

‘Will you stop pitching your gammon? I don’t want to be made to laugh: it hurts! Clara’s the merriest little game pullet alive – full of fun and gig, and don’t give a rap for anyone! As for breaking her heart over me, I’ll lay you any odds you like my place in it has been filled by now. I fancy I know who’s got it, too. Where did you pick up this bag of moonshine?’

‘From her loving parent – thank you very much, brother!’

‘What?’ Evelyn sat up with an unwise jerk which made him wince. ‘Do you mean that rusty old elbow-crooker came here to find me? Kester, you didn’t let yourself be bit, did you?’

‘Only to the tune of paying the postboy.’

‘Well, thank God for that! Lord, Clara would rend her to flinders if she got wind of it! I only met her once, and that was enough for me!’

‘It was enough for me too,’ said Kit.

‘Poor twin!’ Evelyn said remorsefully. ‘You must have had the devil of a time with her!’ His eyes began to dance. ‘I’d give a monkey to have seen you, though! Did she gab for ever about the days of her glory?’

‘I should rather think she did! Who was the Marquis who kept her in style?’

‘I don’t know: might have been almost any Marquis, by what I’ve heard. You wouldn’t think she’d been a regular high-flier, would you? She was: old Flixton told me she was a dasher of the first water when she was young. Devil of a temper, but as full of fun as Clara is. The bottle was her undoing: that’s why it’s low tide with her now, for, according to Clara, she was pretty well-inlaid when she retired! Clara don’t live with her, but she looks after her. Which reminds me that I never did get to Tunbridge Wells, and I must. I owe Clara something for the good times we’ve had together. That’s all over now, and I expect she knows it, but I’ll tell her myself.’ He chuckled. ‘As corky a squirrel as you could wish for! Wrote to beg me to send her an express if I was dead, so that she could get her blacks together!’ He drank the rest of his brandy, and set the glass down beside his chair. ‘Where the deuce was I, when you led me off on to Clara?’

‘On the way to Networth, to visit John-Coachman.’

‘Oh, yes! Well, I did that all right and tight, and then I took the lane that joins the pike-road at Poundgate. That’s where I overturned – just short of Poundgate, and not fifty yards from Woodland House. Mrs Askham happened to be coming out of the gate, and saw it, and the long and the short of it was that she had me carried up to the house, and – and there I’ve been ever since.’ He looked at Kit, warmth in his eyes, ‘They couldn’t have done more for me if I’d been one of their sons, Kester. I can’t tell you how – how good they are, or how kind! I didn’t know anything about it, of course, but Mr Askham rode off himself to fetch their doctor, and even had the grays led into the stable, and saw to it that they were looked after as well as they would have been here. No broken legs, thank God! And no bad scars – thanks to Mr Askham!’

‘Well, that’s good, but why didn’t he send them a message here? He surely must have known how anxious everyone must be!’